


inches between them

by skuls



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Episode: s08e15 DeadAlive, Episode: s08e17 Empedocles, F/M, Post-Episode: s08e16 Three Words, i mean it kind of takes place over this arc??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 10:19:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8158670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skuls/pseuds/skuls
Summary: It’s taken her nearly eight years to believe in the impossible, and it’s still easy to revert to old habits. She believed for Mulder when it seemed vital, when it was imperative that if he couldn’t be there that someone be there to fill his role in his life’s work, to take his place, but she didn’t believe when it really was vital. She never imagined him coming back from the dead, always thought it was impossible. If she ever imagined them raising the baby together, she imagined a reality where he never left and her life didn’t crumble to dust.





	

**Author's Note:**

> based off the tumblr prompt “I needed someone and… you were the only one I thought of.” http://how-i-met-your-mulder.tumblr.com/post/151032997758/msr-10

_April, 2001_

**i.**

It’s taken her nearly eight years to believe in the impossible, and it’s still easy to revert to old habits. She believed for Mulder when it seemed vital, when it was imperative that if he couldn’t be there that someone be there to fill his role in his life’s work, to take his place, but she didn’t believe when it really was vital. She never imagined him coming back from the dead, always thought it was impossible. If she ever imagined them raising the baby together, she imagined a reality where he never left and her life didn’t crumble to dust. 

She tries to tell him early the morning after their reunion, but she can tell he’s already noticed. He’s quieter, won’t meet her eyes. “Mulder, I got my miracle,” she tries, immediately regretting the singular pronoun. She slips her fingers through his, and lifts his heavy hand to press against her abdomen. 

“I’m happy for you,” he says, almost devoid of any emotion, and that’s when she feels like she’s lost him again. 

 

**ii.**

She’d been so hesitant at first, when he’d been abducted, to do anything for the baby. She went to her doctor’s appointments. She had a habit of talking to the baby - only when she was alone, things like _I’m your mother, I’m going to protect you, I love you_. And Mulder was usually a regular topic, too. But she didn’t want to do anything without him. She’d avoided speculating gender, considering names, going baby shopping. She felt like she couldn’t allow herself to take too much enjoyment in it all, not without him there. 

After he’d died, it’d been different. She knew she couldn’t let the baby come unprepared, so she’d forced herself. She’d suffered through shopping trips with her mother to Babies-R-Us and discussions about the future after he’d been buried for a couple months. She still loved the baby with everything in her - but sometimes, she didn’t know how she would do it without him. 

Now that he’s back, she parades him through the skeletonized, half-finished nursery. Her mother had flat out refused to let her paint (”paint fumes could be bad for the baby, Dana”), and fought her on setting up any furniture, recruiting the Gunmen instead (which Scully had found amusing because she had no idea how her mother had found out how to contact them). It’s unfinished mostly because she senses it was painful for the Gunmen to be around her; she reminded them too much of Mulder. (She still remembers the phone conversation she’d had with them in the hallway outside of Mulder’s room. She’s never heard Frohike happier.) 

“It needs work,” she says awkwardly. He nods, looking over the mess of shopping bags in the corner. “There was, um, one thing I thought you’d appreciate,” she continues, holding up the solar system mobile, the one thing she’d picked herself, without coaxing from her mother. She’d imagine what he’d say when they bought it together, imagined she could hear his voice commenting on how important it is for a child to have a broad scientific knowledge. She’d almost cried in the middle of the Babies-R-Us aisle. 

Mulder tries to smile. Scully’s stomach twists.

 

**iii.**

He drives over to her place in the middle of the night because he thinks he can still hear the whir of the saw, the thump of dirt above him. He’d been so determined not to that he’d called the Gunmen first, but no one had picked up. And who was left to call? Skinner? 

(He really has missed her. But a lot has changed since he’s been gone.)

Mulder knocks on the door instead of using his key. It takes several knocks to wake her up. He can hear her shuffling around in the apartment, muttering _just a minute_ sleepily. She swings the door open, and her eyes immediately widen in something that can only be described as horror.

“I needed someone,” he stammers. “And… you were the only one I thought of.”

She is sagging against the doorframe, hand pressed against her extended abdomen, her eyes still widened… no, that’s not horror, it’s confusion. She is staring at him like he’s a ghost. He winces at the terminology. “Scully, it’s me,” he says desperately. 

She leans forward and grips him in a desperate hug, her face pressed into his shoulder. He feels a flutter of motion between them, and realizes that the baby is kicking. 

“I’m sorry,” she says into the fabric of his shirt. “I just… forgot.” 

He wraps his arms around her and pulls her closer. “It’s okay,” he mumbles to the top of her head. 

She pulls away after a second. “Do you want to come in?” 

He steps into her apartment, feeling strangely like an intruder. “Do you want something to drink?” Scully says softly, moving towards the kitchen. 

“No, I’m fine.”

She turns to face him, worry lining her face. “Mulder, what is it? You said you needed me.”

It sounds embarrassing now, in his head. He swallows. “I can’t stop seeing the ship. Or the coffin.”

Her face turns sympathetic, and she reaches out to touch him. He inadvertently flinches, and she pulls her hand back. “Mulder,” she says softly.

“Was it like this with you?” 

“A little bit, yes,” she says quietly. “I could only remember bits and pieces. And it seems like we had… different experiences.”

He imagines her curled in on herself, alone, her hands shaking. “You never told me,” he says. 

Scully reaches out again, slower this time, and presses her fingers to his wrist. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers. “This… it was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” She takes a sharp breath. “I didn’t know how I’d get through the day half the time. I didn’t know how to go on without you.” 

When they’d woken up in the hospital, after, he’d noticed almost immediately. She’d grabbed his hand and guided it to her stomach. The baby hadn’t kicked that time. He doesn’t know what it means. “I’m sorry, too,” he says. “I never would’ve gone if I’d known.”

 

**iv.**

He sleeps in her bed that night, inches between them. He starts shaking again during the night, and she reaches across the sheets and holds his hand. It’s worse, he thinks, to be alone because there’s nothing to anchor him, to remind him he’s still here. Her hand in his is comforting, and he can almost pretend that he never left. 

He slips out before it’s completely light outside. He’s halfway home before he considers what he’s doing, remembers Scully’s teary-eyed confessions the night before. He parks the car, clenching his hands around the wheel. _Remember what you went through when she was gone. Remember how hard it was. Remember that she had to bury you._ He turns the car around.

Scully looks half-shocked with she exits her bedroom to find him sitting at her kitchen table. “I thought you’d left,” she says quietly, reserved. 

“Got breakfast.” He passes her a bagel. “Light cream cheese.”

They don’t talk about it, because they’re Mulder and Scully and they never really talk about anything - not their feelings, not the baby. Instead, they fall back into their old roles, pretend it’s a year ago and things aren’t as painful. 

 

**v.**

The night after she gets out of the hospital, Mulder stays over. Scully is relieved - after everything that’s happened, after his doll is lying on her coffee table and the inside of her apartment is splattered with warmth, she doesn’t want to be alone again. His eyes follow her when she moves, like she will break. 

It’s not until they’re in bed, and she rolls against him out of instinct, and his arm curls around her with his hand coming to rest on the swell of her stomach that she decides it needs to be brought up. “Mulder… you know you’re the father,” she says. “Right?”

He stiffens a little against her and she almost immediately regrets it. “Uh, I kind of assumed. But… I don’t know. I don’t think I was thinking straight.”

“Okay,” she says. “Okay, I just wanted to make sure that you…”

“Scully, I’m sorry. I’ve been… it’s all just been a lot to process.”

She swallows, strokes his thumb a little with her own. “I know.”

He nudges the top of her head with his nose. “I wanted this when we did the IVF process. And I… I do still want it now.” 

_I waited for you_ , she thinks. _This is all I’ve wanted for a long time now. iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou._

She turns to kiss him. “Okay,” she whispers against his mouth. 

 

**vi.**

“In the hospital… you mouthed something.” She feels almost silly for bringing it up, but she can still remember the wordless _I love you_ , how much it meant after everything that’d happened. If nothing else, she deserves that, at least. 

He squeezes her hand. “Scully?”

“Hmm?”

He presses a kiss to her stomach. “I meant it.”


End file.
